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Divide and Infiltrate; Hellfire Distraction Team
Topic Started: Jun 18 2012, 10:15 AM (974 Views)
Moses Magnum
Unregistered

April 25th

Early Evening



Unbeknownst to Moses, he'd been "on ice" for quite some time; known to him though was that he'd been helping the Black Court in an increased leadership capacity during Max's incarceration, and working more closely with Queen Sage. That of course brought him no end of satisfaction to be helping such a lovely woman. Tonight though, he was proud to help get Maximilian back on his throne; he was the Hellfire's Black King, and as much as helping from behind the throne suited him; his own machinations were on hold until The Shroud was back in his rightful place.

His mission was simple and easily followed through; create a big enough distraction that SHIELD is forced to investigate. Psylocke and the infiltration team would handle the guards holding Max and would be that much more efficient because they would have no back-up. At his command for this mission were the family of Mastermind's; two of the world's most skilled and powerful illusionists of the mutant persuasion. Icarus; whose hypnotic voice and blade gifted to him by the Brotherhood's own Fracture could sow the seeds of chaos if he got that pesky X-Man mentality out of his head.

And finally, the young and lovely Tarot. She could call forth any hellish creature on those cards of hers; perfect for the shock and awe part of the plan. Dressed in his usual battle garb of a black bodysuit and gloves to keep his hands free of blood. This time though, his head was covered with a state of the art helmet of his own design. Voice modulation, polarized view screen and a built in HUD kept him abreast of the situation and his identity a secret. Unlike the pawns who weren't known to the world, and the Mastermind's who could look and even sound like anyone, he possessed no such luxury; and he stood to lose much if he were discovered.

After they'd all arrived at their designated positions, he spoke to each of them over their communicators. " A Black Rook, A White Pawn, A Black Pawn, a White Bishop, and a Black Bishop. We hold different ranks and even different courts, but we are all Hellfire. Sophisticated people who know that something so petty as everyday rivalries, and even those of a familial nature can be put aside for the good of the entire Inner Circle. Tonight is the night the Black King is freed from his unrighteous imprisonment, and we...have the prodigious honor of being the distraction." He paced back and forth from the top of the building overlooking the depot as he gave them a few words before commencing.

"You've been briefed, but I'm a stickler for doing things right. Our job is to keep SHIELD busy while the White Queen and her...boys, free King Maximilian. We want to make as much noise and damage as possible...make this look like the Brotherhood want to send a message." He stopped and cracked his knuckles as he looked at the people milling about below; so unaware. "You have your assignments; let's shake things up." He initiated the attack by bolstering his strength and leaping easily 50 feet into the air; it took a moment before gravity got it's clutches on him and his stomach flipped. As he fell, he gathered energy into his hands; so much so that they glowed and pulsed with volatile power.

When he finally touched down, his landing was soft; the follow through however was anything but. His upper body contorted downwards and his energy laden fists slammed into the soft, soft concrete. The energy; raw and concentrated seismic power in it's purest form surged outwards, creating a tremor of magnificent proportions; everyone standing in a mile radius was shaken to the ground, while the ground itself was cratered from his impact. This was a Blitzkrieg. Shock and Awe tactics designed to keep the people frightened and off balance while SHIELD scrambled to stop it.

Hopping out of the deep hole he'd created, he hurled a car; not caring where it landed. Then he found a shipping container and hefted it over his head; "Don't let me have all the fun." He threw it into a building; turning before it crashed against it. Then he contacted the media team accompanying them and planted into the civilians present. "You have your orders; film this; upload it to the internet...make it look and sound like the Brotherhood is here. Call the police, call everyone...SHIELD will come. I guarantee it."
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Jason Wyngarde
Unregistered

Their directive seemed simple enough. Essentially what was required here was to create noise…to set off alarms that would get SHIELD to respond as quickly as possible and with as much backup as possible so the White Queen and her team could free King Shroud without too much difficulty. Positioning himself in a fairly populated area, Jason strolled through the area and surveyed his surroundings like an artist sizing up a blank canvas just prior to beginning his masterpiece.

He listened distractedly as the newly appointed Black Bishop gave the briefing, smiling to himself but keeping his thoughts unspoken. Moses was right after all. Hellfire might be filled with self-serving and opportunistic individuals, many of which were okay with climbing over one another to get to the top…but when it came to solidarity for the sake of the bigger picture they were all in. For now Jason knew that rescuing Max was tantamount to everything else. The future of entire clubs were sometimes decided by this sort of thing.

Besides, he was tired of tending to those children of Max.

“I have no intention of letting you have all of the fun,” Jason said with a smirk as he glanced over across a small shopping distance, watching people teeter slightly from the not too distant seismic disturbance. Flashes of light opened up in front of them, silhouetted shapes stepping out of the glow and looking around with hideous glee.

“Looks like the party started without us,” one of them said. He lifted his arms up as the backlighting of the portal faded away and twin flames appeared at the ends of his hands. “Let’s blow this joint!” His eyes alight with insanity, the littler one turned his flames onto the crowd. One man, trying to escape, hopped into his car and sped away. In his rearview mirror he could see the ball of flame headed his way, the last thing he thought before the explosion was the irony of the words ‘Objects in mirror may appear closer’ sticker on his side mirror. Later when they’d find his body, there would be no real evidence of why he died.

Next to the flame throwing menace was an extremely large one. He picked up a car full of teenagers and tilted the hood up, looking at them with a vapid sort of grin. “What is this thing, a Jetta?” He threw his head back and laughed as his hands gouged into the metal on the hood. With a heavy grunt he threw it over his back, turning to watch it flip end over end until it landed upside down on the street and slid ten scraping yards to a halt.

People were starting to scream.

Jason lit a cigarette.
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Tarot
Unregistered

The order had been given, the lyrics of calamity sung into the dusky night. Marie-Ange stood atop a nearby roof, far enough from the Black Bishop’s seismic strike so that she wasn’t grounded, but close enough that the resulting vibrations caused her body to lurch forward before composing herself. At times, she was fascinated by the amount of sheer might that brimmed within Hellfire’s ranks. Impractical captivation would have to wait however - the Pawn had a task to perform.

"Don't let me have all the fun."

Fun? Terrorizing feeble civilians wasn’t pleasurable for the young woman, but she acknowledged its necessity for now. There would be no protests or dissention from Marie, though she’d do her best to assure that her own actions left no fatalities if she could help it. Unfortunate though it may have been, the reality of who she was allied with ensured the spilling of guiltless blood. Still, she hoped that her hands would be clean at the closing of this act. The Frenchwoman was saving room on her palms for the blackened gore of false-faced demons.

She moved to the rooftop’s edge, pulling forth two cards from her deck as she gazed down upon the city streets. In the distance, she could see Jason’s illusory machinations at work while the public trampled over each other to escape what wasn’t truly there. Marie-Ange gave a slight frown before summoning her constructs into existence at the very center of the crowd. Two gargantuan beasts bared their fangs at fleeing passerby, each construct just over seven feet high and bristling with impossible might.

“I suggest you all cover your ears for a moment, mes amis,” she uttered.

The Lion of Strength let out a deafening roar, its guttural howl setting off every car alarm within three city blocks. Those in the thick of it would know well the sensation of crimson liquid trickling from their ears at that moment. Meanwhile, The Moon’s Wolf tore through the crowd with bounding limbs, leaving a carpet of bruised bodies in its wake. They’d be slightly battered and sore, but alive and more appreciative of their humble existences by the end of this misdirection.
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Mastermind
Unregistered

Regan's research into SHIELD's activities had absorbed almost all of her attention in the weeks since the Black King and Queen had been revealed as dopplegangers, but today it was all bearing fruit. The White Queen was leading an infiltration team to extract Max from his SHIELD prison, while the Black Bishop led a more visible strike team to distract those who would otherwise reinforce the Black King's captors. Regan had considerable familiarity with this sort of dual-strike operation, but seeing it as part of the strike force rather than as a covert infiltrator was a new perspective for her. No doubt there were excellent reasons for it. And if the truth was to be told, she was rather looking forward to getting her hands a little bloody on this one.

Of course, there was a covert aspect to this mission; as far as the rest of the world was concerned, this attack was not being conducted by the Hellfire Club, but by Magneto's Brotherhood of Mutants. As far as Regan knew, Magneto had approved that deception: a convenient stalking horse, given Sanctuary's ongoing state of war with the human world, made still more convenient by the Black Bishop's identity as a major Brotherhood member. Regan wondered whether SHIELD, when they finally arrived, would bring their own tame Brother. Or ex-Brother, she should say. Either way, watching Moses and the Juggernaut go toe-to-toe against one another would be... exciting.

But she had more important things to do than watch.

Not far away, Jason was causing havoc in the guise of two of the Brotherhood's more destructive members, and Regan smiled at the chaos. Regan's experience in Sanctuary stood her in good stead here, and she had chosen a somewhat less well-known figure to stand in for her. Thus, as she stood nearby, cloaked by illusion, a serpentine feral figure leapt from target to target, attacking bystanders indiscriminately. And although the attacker was illusory, the venom that brought down his victims was decidedly real. The darts Regan was firing from her flechette gun had been specially designed to decompose rapidly once exposed to the air; they lasted just long enough to deliver their payload into their targets' bloodstreams. Autopsies would show only a small puncture wound, and traces of a potent neurotoxin closely related to snake venom.

Of course, the primary purpose of this show of force was for the benefit of the media crew that Moses had assembled. Her imperceptibility would protect her from the SHIELD agents who came to stop them, but it would not affect the cameras or psionically resistant observers. Which was why, underneath her cloak of illusory imperceptibility, Regan had activated the image inducer built into her ordinarily featureless black battle armor, creating the appearance of a random civilian for their benefit. A careful forensic analysis of the broadcast signals, should one be performed, would no doubt reveal irregularities in the image; that hardly mattered, though. More importantly, it would not identify her as Mastermind, as the Hellfire Club's Black Rook, or as Regan Wyngarde.
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Icarus
Member Avatar
Darkforce Wings, Vocal Manipulation
Icarus watched and listened quietly as the orders were reiterated to emphasize their mission and it's importance. He wanted to redeem himself from the little flop on the terrace not far too long ago. He had to prove that he belonged in the Hellfire Club where sharks and wolves played even if he appeared to be a little songbird. However to look and act like a member of the Brotherhood was going to be a stretch for the young man considering before the Hellfire Club, he was being trained and taught to be far from the Brotherhood. This was definitely an exercise in his abilities, as well as his morality.

Ebon wings hung on his shoulders, appearing to be more of a cloak of shadows rather than actual angel like wings. The young man pulled his hood over his face to keep himself hidden from being spotted and pointed out. For his low level position, Jay still worried about his identity in this being revealed and reaching ears of those he would rather not have known. To save the King and Queen he would risk this though.

The Black Bishop created seismic activity to disrupt the locals into panic, Then the illusionists brought out members of the actual brotherhood to attack the innocent, even Marie had summoned things that surprised Jay with their abilities. Going to have to remember that roar... He thought to himself wondering how well he could mimic the sound that sent many running in fear.

He moved to the shadows of an alley keeping keen eyes on the panicked crowd. Taking a breath he used the darkforce to keep him further blended, near invisible within the shadows. "RUN! It's the Brotherhood!" He threw his voice out into the crowd to help things along. Time for even more suggestion to the crowd, attempting to use the influence of his voice thrown all over to incite panic without bloodshed and to lure SHIELD here all the more quicker, which was when he would actually join the fray.

"They're going to kill us!"

"Ahhhh!"

"Someone, please call SHIElD, the cops, anyone!"

The former student of Xavier's kept his avian eyes peeled to make sure none of the civilians trampled each other, however his vocal abilities recquired his focus as well.
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Mala Suerte
Unregistered

It was about damn time that SHIELD put her into play again. Zita had been anxious to get back into the battlefield to do some real damn damage. A woman could only exercise in a gym and practice her combat skills on dummies for so long. She needed to be sated through actual combat. Otherwise her presence on the Helicarrier would be wasted. She would be nothing more than a common criminal like the others down below. Zita was more than ready to take on whoever was messing up some city in the north east. The word was that it was the Brotherhood. She did not really care what their reason for the attack was, probably something to do with proving they were superior. All she cared about was getting a boot on the ground and another firmly up someone’s ass.

Zita was decked out in her uniform with dual glocks and ammo lining the waist. Hanging from her back was an M16 assault rifle, a weapon that she learned how to fire at age 18. It had become a part of her stable ever since. The Brotherhood was a dangerous organization of terrorists, mutant terrorists, but still. She had been fighting terrorists for years before doing her solo thing. Zita went over her arsenal one more time before slipping on the mask to complete the getup. Once everyone else was good and ready, the resident teleporter opened up a portal and she jumped right through without hesitation. There was a giant crater in the middle of the city with cracks spreading out from it that split streets in half. People were running in fear from two tall creatures, a pyrokinetic and a large bastard throwing cars.

Multiple targets and plenty of bullets to go around. “This is going to be all kinds of fun.” Zita brought the rifle up toward one of the creatures that resembled a lion and unloaded. He shots were precise and aimed at the vitals within its chest. She was unconcerned with holding back. When dealing with this lot there was no need to. Holding back would just get her and the civilians killed.
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Eden Fesi
Unregistered

Only minutes into the unprovoked and unwarranted attack, emergency calls began to light up SHIELD's boards and video's of cars flying through the air, damaged streets and angry mutants started popping up on Youtube, Twitter, and Facebook. Eden was suited and ready to go in five minutes from the time he'd gotten the call on his comm. One last equipment check and he teleported to the staging area, ready to take the response team with him to handle the problem. "Alright folks, you know the deal; Brotherhood attack in Boston. SHIELD's gonna stop em; tag em, and bag em. Just another day at the office."

Everyone was gathered and he saw no need to delay, so he snapped his fingers and they all vanished; nipping at his heels as he navigated and tunneled a course through space-time itself. They materialized with forward momentum and he rolled, then sprung to his feet with a bow in his hands and an arrow already nocked. He took aim and let the projectile fly, directly towards the eye of that massive wolf thing.

He ran towards it, loosing one, two, three more arrows all aimed at vitals before snapping the bow back into it's holster while pulling out a pistol and firing off round after round as he got closer. It too was put back in it's place as Eden yanked two large kukri knives and teleported dozens of feet into the air above the creature. He let himself build momentum and then warped right on top of it, his blades seeking to find a tender piece of flesh to pierce and tear into. "Just like huntin back home!!"
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Cain Marko
Unregistered

JP between Moses and Juggernaut



When the calls started coming in, Cain was a bit apprehensive; he thought that maybe they didn't need someone as...detrimental to public property as he was. He was happily mistaken though when he saw the footage of the guy decked out in a helmet and black body armor doing enough damage to impress even him. The ground beneath him was trashed and at least ten feet deep; a car was wrecked and against a wall, as well as a shipping container sticking half out of a building at a skewed angle. Oh, this was going to be a real good one; not often he got to lay the smack down on someone who looked like they could take just as much as they could dish out.

"I call dibs on that one;" Cain said as he pointed a massive finger at the screen displaying the mutants causing massive damage and destruction. "Looks like ole' Juggernaut gets to bring out Rocko, and Mr. Magillicutty." Both of his arms flexed in response to hearing their names, and their owner was all aflutter about getting into an honest to goodness slobberknocker. It'd been too long; far too long. When they were given the all clear, he flashed a look at Zita. Neither of them had been "off the leash" in a while, and it would be good for them to stretch their legs and run rampant. He planted a quick kiss on her cheek before stepping back and locking his helmet into place. "Let's give em hell!!!" He smiled before fading out.

Moses hadn't been able to cause wanton destruction in a long time; the Hellfire Club saw to his more business needs, but it had been far too long since he could just break things. The last time was his "initiation" into the Club if he remembered correctly, but that wasn't as fun as this. He was sending shockwaves just behind people running for their lives, sending some flying and others sprawling; his fun was interrupted by the arrival of a SHIELD strike team. He honestly hadn't even been paying attention to the newcomers, but his media time had reported them and he turned to see all of them. Two were attacking Tarot's creatures, and one caught his eye. A monster of a man with a very recognizable helmet and red armor. The Juggernaut. Picking up a shipping container, he grinned and threw it at the large man; he wanted to see what he had.

Cain was still smiling when they made it to the scene, and it grew even wider when he saw the man in black and the toy he was tossing to him. "Some people know how to welcome guests to a party." He stood there as the object filled with tons and tons of whatever fell on him. His hands punched through the metal moments later, shearing it apart from the inside and stepping out. "I'm gonna have fun with you." He took off at a run, heading directly towards the black clad figure.
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Jason Wyngarde
Unregistered

Taking a seat on a bench far away from the fray, Jason crossed one leg languidly over the other, propping one arm up over the back of the bench with a lit cigarette loosely held between his fingers as he watched the ordeal begin to unfold. Swathed in illusion himself, he was hidden in the open. Not that it really mattered…with enough light, glimmer and explosions taking place elsewhere, it was unlikely that he would have been noticed anyway.

Glancing over he took note of what the others were doing while his Brotherhood constructs continued to play their glorious parts. Squinting his eyes at the enormous roaring lions, he smiled to himself as he blew twin plumes of smoke from his nostrils. The girl was certainly full of surprises.

His own illusions only existed in the minds of the panicking onlookers. There was no physical projection, no manifestation other than in the terrified recesses of the victim’s psyche. Nonetheless, under his influence they choked on the smoke and were deafened by the roar of the pyrokinetic’s flames as he torched cars and laughed like a madman.

Actually, it seemed very much in character that lunatic follower of Magneto as far as Jason was concerned. Maybe it was a wee bit over the top, but then again anyone who dedicated their life religiously to a man like Magneto certainly was not playing with a full deck to begin with.

The other one went by the name of Blob, and he was every bit as repulsive as Jason painted him to the masses. In their minds they could hear him shouting out ridiculous one-liners and could feel the earth trembling beneath their feet as he slammed his ham-fist into the hood of a Jeep. Every smell, every sound every vision was consuming to them.

Studying his fingertips, Jason worried at a small extending cuticle while the intangible show carried on.

With a glance over his shoulder he saw SHIELD beginning to make their appearance. Admittedly he thought that they would have done so in a little bit stronger show of force, but then again maybe it was time to up the ante just a little. While focus was given to Tarot’s devices and the Neanderthal titan Juggernaut who was charging the Black Bishop Moses, very little was being done about the two Brotherhood miscreants in the middle of the busy street. He accented his displeasure with a loud explosion that rocked the surrounding area, sending a palpable shockwave over everyone within a few blocks.

Car alarms were screeching.

Water shot straight up into the air out of broken hydrants.

Scorching fire blackened buildings and broiled flesh, sending a thick choking column of charcoal smoke twisting into the air.

Jason glanced at his watch and distantly wondered how the other team was faring.
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Mastermind
Unregistered

Regan smiled at Icarus' vocal manipulation of the crowd, riling them up to greater panic. It didn't escape her attention that he was holding back; inciting chaos but not bloodshed. On the other hand, neither did it escape her attention that he was doing more than he would likely have agreed to on his first day in Hellfire. The boy was gradually adjusting to his new allegiences. Despite numerous attempts, however, she'd proven unable to duplicate most of the effects the Pawn could achieve with his voice; as far as she could determine, even the psychological effects of his mutation were primarily mediated through the physical medium of his voice and its actual resonant frequencies, rather than the purely perceptual effects. She could no more duplicate them than she could the Black Bishop's strength or the White Pawn's solid-light minions. Frustrating, but it was what it was.

In any case, her ruminations about the Black Pawn's progress were interrupted by the arrival of SHIELD. Took them long enough, she observed critically as the mutant agents assembled. Two of them focused their efforts on one of Tarot's creations, while the third -- ironically, a former Brotherhood asset himself -- began trading banter and heavy objects with Moses. Get a room, boys, she thought, rolling her eyes in amusement. In addition to the superpowered agents, there were a number of human agents being deployed, as well as ordinary police officers, most of whom were leveling their weapons at the illusory versions of the Blob, Pyro, and Toxin. Most of which would have been pointless even if they had actually been there; as it was, they were primarily firing at empty air, which made it doubly pointless.

It was also, Regan decided, a waste of good ammunition. She entertained herself for a while by rendering innocent bystanders invisible and running her illusory Brotherhood member past their locations; sometimes the law-enforcement weapons struck the pedestrians, sometimes they didn't. It wasn't quite as satisfying as shooting them herself, but she consoled herself with the thought that the recorded images would simply show what had actually happened: the police opening fire on civilians. The civil suits alone would tie up the courts for months... even more so if she could cajole that bow-wielding SHIELD agent into taking down one of them.

Watching all the mayhem, death and destruction around her, Regan considered -- not for the first time -- just how much she enjoyed these sorts of assignments. They weren't something she got to indulge in often: mostly, Hellfire was about doing business, not battle. She preferred it that way, really; there was a reason she'd never been tempted to join Magneto's Brotherhood for real. But that didn't mean she didn't get a thrill out of them when the opportunity arose.

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Tarot
Unregistered

The Hellfire Club’s distraction team had been sowing trickery and discord for quite some time before SHIELD finally arrived in all their militant flair. Almost immediately, two of the agents deemed it necessary to attack her constructs with lethal force, seemingly disregarding the fact that the beasts hadn’t slain any civilians, or perhaps they were ignorant of it within all the chaos and disorder. No time to see who did what and only viewing her constructs as a convenient target. Violent, warmongering drones, she thought, scoffing at their attempts to damage her summoned creatures. Didn’t they stop to wonder if there was a metamorphic mutant within the beasts they were attempting to slaughter with impunity?

In truth, it didn’t really matter, though it gave her some insight into the agents that she could perhaps exploit before long. Meanwhile, the psychic feedback from their assault tickled just a bit. So far, any agents here short of the Juggernaut himself would find their attacks to be useless. Her constructs had neither blood to shed nor vital organs to puncture. They were pure psionic energy molded and directed by her considerable will. When the teleporting agent’s blade hit the Lion of Strength’s hide, the construct paid no heed. There wasn’t any reason to waste any form of effort on defeating these agents. In fact, it served her and the infiltration team better to draw out the skirmish as long as she could.

With another roar, low and guttural, the Lion bared his teeth at the agent before bounding off around the corner. More of the masses were fleeing the illusion-casting duo’s scene in search of respite. They’d find none, of course, as the Wolf left behind the female agent to follow its brother in meeting the civilians. Spread their resources thin, she mused.
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Henry Orchard
Unregistered

Over the din of the battle something called out. At first it was little more than a light pressure in the ear, a hint of distant bass just beyond the range of hearing. As it grew closer it became a deep, rich tone that echoed over the rooftops of Boston like a huntsman’s horn, the fleeting edges of its sounding sharp with a terrible hunger. Each time as the reverberations died away that horn would sound out again, closer, louder with each cry until the windows shook and rattled in their frames. Finally, with one thunderous bellow the hunters broke cover, cresting over the roofs and sweeping down into the street and towards the fight. Three black obelisks, borne aloft by no visible means, shuddering and twitching as they let loose their unearthly wailing.

Henry watched in his mind’s eye as his creations honed in on the Brotherhood, his thoughts directing even the smallest of their movements.

As soon as they’d been dropped back into realspace Henry had scurried away to secrete himself here, in one of the booths of an abandoned diner. His side arm lay on the table, still in its holster, he had no intention of being close enough to anyone to warrant using it. He’d voiced reservations about his inclusion on the roster for this mission but they’d shut him right down when the risk to the public was made apparent. Point Pleasant had a left a mark on Henry, and in recent weeks the frustration of that failure had grown to eclipse his own self pitying mewling. He wasn’t going to let that happen again, not when he had the tools to prevent it.

He tensed with concentration and sent the drones to work.

The hunters pace quickened and as they closed they began to break open. Long fractures ran the length of them and the black stony vorpal unfurled into a host of freakishly thin arms that snatched and clawed at the air. In the exposed hollows of the hunter’s interior the darkness split into rows of bleached white fangs which spiralled up the spine in one long twisted jaw. This horrible mouth rippled and spat as the hunter’s deep horn calls became a chorus of vile screeching.

The monsters bore down on the images of Blob and Pyro. Teeth gnashing out a hungry rhythm and claws outstretched, eager for the feast.
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Jason Wyngarde
Unregistered

Tilting his head up from his watch, Jason inclined his ear and listened above the artifice of his illusory din to a sonorous drone that started to rise, swelling to a great crescendo that literally shook the air. His eyebrows furrowing down, Jason scanned the rooftops for the source of the blast. His eyes finally locked on a trio of obsidian monoliths, hovering impossibly and bearing down on the illusory Brotherhood members with destructive tenacity.

With a raised eyebrow, Jason found it impossible not to grin. This was more like it.

As the columns drew near, Blob and Pyro appeared to take notice. A scorching pillar of flame shot diagonally from the ground, washing over the strange hovering obelisk as it began to crack and transform into something far more deadly and alien. Taking his attention off of the spectacle for a moment, Jason wondered what the source was. It was possible that these creations were independent, working out their deadly machinations on their own. Though it was far more likely he decided that they were the direct product of another mutant. His sharp eyes scanned the area looking for a suspect and looked back only when the loud screeching began.

Knowing that his illusions were phantoms residing in the witnessing minds all around, Jason realized they could have no direct impact on the defending menace…and coincidentally the same was true in reverse. Still, he compensated by putting on a show for the masses. No matter what was actually happening, Jason held the perceptions of everyone present in thrall. To them it appeared that Blob hit one of the grasping snapping creations with a large balled up fist, and it certainly looked like the fire Pyro was generating was hot enough to melt the rubber on tires all around him.

With newly upgraded powers granted to him by Nemesis, Jason redoubled his efforts. Everyone saw the first explode, crashing loudly into the side of a white minivan with a horrified family in it. Jason grinned. Let that rest on the conscience of the pesky intruder.
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Icarus
Member Avatar
Darkforce Wings, Vocal Manipulation
Chaos, that is what broke loose upon the area as SHIELD finally showed up with seemingly blood thirsty members, one of which he had met personally many months ago. The Juggernaut, a former member of the Brotherhood and someone he did not exactly wish for anyone to meet head on. Let alone the Black Bishop. The rest the Black Pawn knew little of, except one of them who appeared to have teleportation abilities. Then another seemed to demonstrate abilities perhaps similar to Marie's on the level of construct creation, or something similar.

A larger issue to the Black Pawn was one of the Masterminds manipulating illusions into having SHIELD attack civilians. Publicity that would have really held up SHIELD quite a bit, but the still moderately intact moral code of the young mutant was nagging at him to at least say something to his superiors. An altered voice, deeper and darker sounding than Icarus's true voice that was actually heard by others came through the head set. "Masterminds, not sure which one of you is doing this, but please do not let civilians die because of this. We're a distraction for the Black King's retrieval, not the actual Brotherhood." Jay responded with some level of authority to his tone, but none of the hypnotic charm. As his King informed him it was against the rules to use such manipulative abilities on Inner Circle members, at least if you were caught. "If anything aim their attention at the building on the North-east end of the street, it is owned by a competitor to Coleridge Enterprises, one that can not exactly afford to lose the shipments within." Jay hoped that would be enough to motivate the Brotherhood impersonators to unleash damage onto something inanimate to perhaps improve their own standing with the black king, not to mention get their focus away from having SHIELD harm innocents.

Icarus looked to the watch on his wrist, which was not truly a watch but something far more advanced as with a few clicks he appeared to be a bat like mutant with grayed skin and a distorted, ugly face underneath a the dark hood. He would not let the Juggernaut spot him, or connect him to any of this. The bat like visage flew off from the dark alley, pulling out even more devices. Grenades, non-lethal grenades but still the young man was learning to compensate for his less than advantageous mutant abilities.

"HUMAN LOVING SCUM!" A screeching voice yelled from above as the grenades were thrown down at two agents that were personally dealing with Marie's constructs. They then exploded into thick clouds of black smoke before the bat mutant flew away to further survey the battle area, constantly moving to avoid any one properly locking onto him for a target or otherwise. Disgusted with himself over what he just said.
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Mala Suerte
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The Brotherhood was doing a real number on the small town. People were running around trying their best to avoid being stomped on, burned or eaten alive by the attacking force. There was a chance that the beast that she was shooting at was just a mutant, but honestly she did not care too much. The thing and its friend were striking fear into the innocent and Zita could not let that go on any longer. When the bullets stopped flying she noticed that the wolf was uninjured. The holes were there, but no blood or any other signs of injury were present. The damn thing didn’t even give a pain filled howl. The lion was no different. The two beasts behaved as if the attacks did not even happen. Just exactly who or what were they fighting? Zita stuffed her weapons away and charged after them as they rounded a corner.

She was nearly tossed aside by the large explosion caused by Pyro, but she kept on going. The beasts were lashing out at people left and right. It was a barrage of claws and fangs. No one else was going to die while she was present, no one innocent anyway. These Brotherhood goons were another story. She would slaughter the whole lot of them if it came down to it. And she was hoping it would. Zita shifted into steel form before driving her fist right into the wolf’s back. Again, the damn thing acted as if it didn’t feel anything. “Alright you flea-bitten piece of shit, try this.” The woman grabbed the wolf by one of its legs then proceeded to slam it repeatedly to the ground until she was satisfied with the damage done. She then flung the damn thing clear across the street just as another Brotherhood member took to the sky. He rained down grenades right at her and Eden.

She braced fully expecting to be blown away, but they were not fragmentation grenades. Instead all they got was black smoke that made it hard to see anything. The smoke probably would have messed with her lungs if they were still flesh. Zita ran forward remembering what the terrain looked like before the smoke clouded everything. Once she was out and had a better view of the sky, Zita leveled her assault rifle and fired on the gray, flying mutant. The bastard’s flight pattern made it hard for her to get a good shot, but she would not stop trying until he was on the ground full of holes.
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